


The Exhilaration Of Victory

by InexplicableCat



Category: South Park
Genre: Craig is a math genius, M/M, Tweek is a drama God
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-16
Updated: 2015-12-16
Packaged: 2018-05-07 00:14:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5436062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InexplicableCat/pseuds/InexplicableCat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are not really boyfriends. They are just pretending. It might be the most real thing in their godforsaken town but still it's fake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Exhilaration Of Victory

“Will you finally let me fix your fucking clothes?” Craig asks Tweek as soon as he spots his blonde fake boyfriend coming out of his house, instead of a morning greeting.

“Good morning to you too, asshole,” Tweek replies before bringing his second cup of coffee for the day to his lips. The beverage hasn’t had the time to cool down properly and Tweek makes a face; scrunching up his nose, frowning and Craig thinks he’s adorable.

“I thought you said at some point that you actually like my misbuttoned shirts?” he inquires after having taken a small sip of his scalding drink.

Craig rolls his eyes. “Of course I do. But I’m constantly worried about you. You don’t dress right for this kind of weather,” he gestures all around them where a soft white blanket of fluffy snow is covering pretty much everything. “Jesus Christ, Tweek, you didn’t even put on a coat!”

Tweek just shrugs and reaches instinctively for Craig’s hand. When he entwines their fingers Craig cringes internally when he realizes Tweek doesn’t even have his gloves on.

Sometimes he wonders why he even bothers. That lunatic could get pneumonia and he wouldn’t care at all. Except, of course, that he would. He would be worried sick, walking back and forth to Tweek’s house, three times a day, bringing him all the school work he’d missed and checking up on him, delivering small kindnesses like fetching him another cup of coffee or getting him the latest Ant-Man issue.

Tweek would always freak out about the fact that he might be contagious and how he doesn't want Craig to catch his cold, but his meek protests couldn’t possibly prevent his fake boyfriend from visiting him.

That’s how it happened last year when Tweek was down with the flu for almost two weeks and Craig was more agitated than usual, smoking alone at the back of their school during lunch breaks, getting all pissed off at Clyde and Token, despite the fact that they were just trying to cheer him up and on the whole, having been influenced by his fake boyfriend of five years, fretting too much over a not so life-threatening situation as the flu.

“Anyway, I’m working till nine today, are you dropping by?” Tweek asks as they are heading towards the bus stop.

During most of their eighth grade, Craig used to walk to school. His house isn’t that far away and he actually enjoyed the lonely walk in the chilly air; a perfect chance to smoke a cigarette before classes.

But since last year, he started going by his friend’s house to pick him up every morning and then they rode the bus to school together. Tweek is always tired and drowsy, his sleeping patterns are atrocious as always and any form of physical exercise is out of the question, especially for so early in the morning. Craig doesn’t really mind, the walk to Tweek’s house is a perfect substitute and every extra minute in the company of Tweek is worth waking up half an hour earlier each morning.  

They occasionally get a nosy glance towards their direction in the bus but until now Craig hasn't yet to encounter a problem that can’t be solved by a middle finger in the face. Token’s mom drives him to school every morning and they pick up Clyde on their way there, most of the times.

So, usually, they sit together at the back of the bus and Tweek always, always manages to drift off, leaning his whole body against Craig’s. The ride is pretty short and it’s impossible for Craig to stop getting that twisting feeling of guilt at the bottom of his stomach when he has to gently wake Tweek up cause they’ve reached their stop.

“Sure. As soon as I finish the math homework that's due tomorrow.”

“Oh God. I’ve forgotten about that!” Tweek yelps frustrated. “There is no way I’m gonna have it ready by tomorrow, man! I can’t concentrate doing homework at the coffee shop. Jesus, what am I going to do Craig?"

Craig lets him rant for a while, half amused, half annoyed cause he knows it’s just an act. Sometimes he wonders, if Tweek is truly worried that Craig will eventually stop letting him copy his math homework and so he puts extra effort to his show every time in order to ‘melt his icy heart’ or some shit.

When he lifts his hand in order to tug at his hair, Craig sighs and stops him “I’ll bring mine over when I’m done with it.”

At that, Tweek drops his antics and calms down. Or pretends to calm down, lately Craig can’t tell the difference, his acting is improving every day.

When they reach the bus stop, Stan and those assholes are already there and Craig flips them off for good measure. They had stopped paying attention to their hand holding a long time ago but occasionally Kenny, that perverted piece of shit, would let out a wolf whistle, when he sees them together. But the poor boy is not the real problem.

No, the real problem is Kyle. Him and Token. Being the most intelligent guys at their school, it didn’t take them too long to realize that something was off about Tweek and Craig’s relationship. And Craig wants to grab them both by their necks and smash their heads together, when they spout such casual remarks on their lack of PDA, and the fact that they don’t use stupid pet names on each other and they don’t give a crap about Valentine’s day; things that normal couples, very much in love, do.

And Craig wants to scream. At the top of his lungs; that this is what everyone wanted, that this is what _they_ wanted; Token and Kyle, and stupid Stan with his stupid bitch of a girlfriend, and completely stupid Clyde with his stupid shit eating grin every time he catches them finishing each other’s sentences. And stupid Butters, who has been begging them for a double date with his stupid Canadian girlfriend. And even stupid Cartman, who may not be as much of a psycho as he used to but who still, some times, talks to himself and high fives the thin air when he sees them together. And stupid Asian girls who will never, ever stop being so emotionally invested in their relationship.

And most of all, their stupid stupid stupid parents, who get together every Sunday and cook each other dinners or go for drinks together, acting all in-lawish.

This is what all of them wanted, so why are they digging into the whole fucking thing so much?

These thoughts make Craig to unconsciously tighten his grip on his fake boyfriend’s palm and Tweek lifts his head in curiosity and stares at him quizzically. And then, almost immediately, the corners of his mouth curl up into a small smile and Craig doesn’t care about that shit all of a sudden. Tweek's hand, the one that Craig is clutching, is already warm from the friction and in his other one he is holding his still hot coffee so Craig can let out small breath and stop fretting over his fake boyfriend’s temperature.

When the bus arrives, he makes sure to let Tweek climb on it first, before those assholes start pushing their way through. When they are seated and the engine starts making those gnarring sounds, Tweek lifts the strap of his messenger bag over his head and places it at his feet on the floor of their elevated seat. When the bus comes to life and starts moving, Tweek almost simultaneously lets himself fall against Craig as he is struggling to keep his eyes open and Craig, as always, contemplates looping his arm around his friend’s shoulders. He has thought about it every day for the last year. Every day when he leaves his house in the morning, he thinks about how today is going to be the day. Today, he is going to stretch his arm across Tweek’s shoulders to steady him as he is taking his short nap on the ride to school. In Craig’s mind it is going to look like a completely casual move, something anticipated and normal, that nobody could make such a big deal out of. Well, bigger than thinking about the deed for a whole year, anyway.

And then, of course, the bus comes to a stop in front of their school and Craig's indecisiveness has cost him yet another chance and instead of hugging Tweek, he gently nudges him in order to wake him up.

“Ah man. Did I fall asleep again?” Tweek asks as if it was completely unintentional. “How am I going to ever drive a car, Craig? I keep dozing off the minute any vehicle starts moving. I’m going to fall asleep every time I’m behind the wheel and end up getting killed or worse! Even thinking about driving is too much pressure!”

Craig has heard the same excessive fears disguised as questions a hundred times over and still he can’t find a better answer than what he tells Tweek this time around too “It’s not the same, when you’re the one doing the actual driving, dude. The rush won’t let you.”

Tweek doesn’t look entirely convinced but he drops the subject altogether as they make their exit. When they are in front of the school gate, Tweek tosses his paper cup in the nearest trash can and the gesture makes Craig remember the countless similar objects that are always lying around in the Tweak household. His fake boyfriend actually built a tower once, out of used paper coffee cups and the whole thing was pretty impressive. He had to demolish it a few days later though, cause apparently dirty cups are a haven for bacteria.

Once inside the school building they head towards their respective lockers, which thankfully aren't much far apart. When Tweek is done collecting his books, he slides next to Craig once again, bringing his finger to his mouth and biting at the soft flesh around his nails. Craig rolls his eyes and grabs his friend's arm in order to stop him from drawing blood again.

"Stop that." Craig demands.

Tweek looks guilty cause he knows he is supposed to cut that shit down but some times he can't help it. His nerves get the better of him and picking at his cuticles abstractedly is as nasty and as addictive of a habit as Craig's smoking.

"Why do we have to take separate classes, man? The first period is always the most stressful. Why did you have to take stupid Precalculus, anyway?" Tweek asks absentmindedly cause he already knows the answer. Craig wants to land a good scholarship from the Colorado Technical University in Denver and attend their computer science program. It's frustrating how composed and resolute Craig is about his future. They are only in their sophomore year and he has known since forever what he wants to do with his life. For Tweek, who struggles making even small daily decisions, something like that is unthinkable. 

"We have some classes together." Craig reassures. "And we'll see each other at lunch, dude."

Tweek looks at him and almost immediately nods, letting out a small sigh "I guess." He glances over his shoulder, towards the classroom he is supposed to enter, as if it hides unspeakable horrors within it and quickly averts his gaze, turning his attention back at his friend. "It's just that it's the first period, man. So stressful," he repeats and Craig wants to clasp his wrists and bring his arms close to his chest. To let his own calmness surge between them and make sure Tweek won't feel afraid again. Instead he says "I know" and starts walking down the hall to their respective classrooms. Tweek follows him, arms wrapped around himself, mumbling something that sounds like 'pressure' under his breath.

When they reach Tweek's classroom, Craig squeezes his friend's arm gently and smiles at him, silently repeating his promise of finding him again, finding him _always_ , after a couple of hours. The English teacher is watching them from behind her desk, through the open door and Craig resists the urge to flip her off. When he finally coaxes Tweek into attending his class, he sighs tiredly and heads towards his own class, which is a few feet away.

Token is already sitting at his desk, next to Craig's, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Craig slumps down beside him and Token lifts his head abruptly, a small smile starts forming on his face upon realizing his friend has arrived.

"Hey, man. Good morning."

"Hey," Craig replies while digging into his backpack for his Calculus exercise book.

"Did you do all the homework?" Token asks impatiently as if he had been waiting to ask Craig about school work all night long. "I think I solved everything but I'm not so sure they are all correct," he adds.

Craig doesn't reply, he just opens his book in the correct page and slides it on Token's tabletop. Token raises an eyebrow at his friend and then diverts his attention towards Craig's messy handwriting. After a while Token's eyes widen and a barely noticeable smirk makes its way to Craig's lips.

"Dude, what the fuck!" Token exclaims. "I was stuck on that third exercise for like two hours and still felt like something was missing but this...this is genius! Craig, man, you are a natural."

Craig just shrugs, although he clearly enjoys the compliment, especially since it comes from someone as astute as Token. "I like math," he states.

Token lets out a small chuckle "maybe someday you'll solve the equation of your missing fucks, dude" he teases and Craig can't help but laugh at that.

"So, how's Tweek?" Token asks after a while and Craig tenses a little.

"Fine," he replies and hopes his friend will leave it at that because lately he feels uncomfortable talking about Tweek to Token or interacting with him when his rich friend or Kyle are around, since he feels like they can see right through them. Luckily their math teacher steps inside the classroom, urging them to be quiet and Craig lets out a small sigh of relief.

~

During lunch break they are all sitting together at their regular table. Craig makes sure to finish his meal really quickly so he can go out for a smoke, possibly dragging Tweek with him, preferably while the others are still too preoccupied with their food. But as he moves to stand up, untangling himself from the bench, he notices that Tweek hasn't even touched his food and he is just taking large gulps out of his coffee, frantically.

Craig sighs heavily and drops back down. "Tweek." He says and the blonde boy next to him jerks a bit at his seat.

"What is it, man?"

"You haven't eaten anything," Craig says, gesturing at the almost untouched pizza slice in front of Tweek.

"I'm not hungry. Mom." Tweek exhales exasperated. He and Craig must have had the same conversation a million times over and it still annoys the hell out of Tweek how his friend is practically counting every bite.

Craig just stares at him, his eyebrows scrunched together in a look of disapproval. As soon as he realizes, though, that people are starting to pay attention to them, discreetly (or completely bluntly in Kenny's case) eavesdropping on their exchange, he lets it go and reverts to his original plan of steering them away from prying eyes.

"Whatever. Wanna go outside for a bit?"

Tweek lights up at that, apparently enjoying some alone time, just the two of them, had been on his mind as well.

When they are outside, they pass by the Goth kids and upon reaching their usual spot, Craig leans against the wall and takes out his cigarettes from the interior pocket of his blue jacket. Tweek stands in front of him, shifting from foot to foot, continuing to sip at his coffee from his favorite thermos that brings with him to school everyday.

"So," he starts talking after a few minutes of just watching the thick smoke coming out of his friend's mouth, struggling to reach the sky. "I think, we should put on another show."

Craig almost chokes. "Whatever the fuck for?"

Tweek shrugs, not as nervous as he should have been after Craig's outburst, probably because he must have been expecting his reaction. "Well, for one thing, it's been ages since we staged up a fight. People are starting to get restless. Jesus Christ, man, did you see the look Kyle was giving me at lunch?"

Craig doesn't answer but of course he has a very definite idea of what Tweek is talking about.

"And secondly, those things help me a lot, you know. What with my acting classes and everything. Gushing out lines at you is much easier than directing them at random girls and guys."

Again, Craig isn't utterly sure if Tweek really feels that way or if it's another act. Reinforce Craig's sense of importance in order to get him to do what you want.

Still, there is no actual choice here, since Tweek is pretty much determined, Craig has no option but to go along with it. He has one objection though. "Fine. But I'm sick and tired of being the bad guy. If we are breaking up yet again because of another shitty thing I did, then no. I'm out, I'm not doing it."

Tweek appears thoughtful for a moment and then he concurs "Okay, I suppose it's only fair for me to be the bad guy, this time. Besides it'll help with my acting range."

Craig rolls his eyes at him. "We could say that you gave me syphilis. Or something equally disgusting," he says with a smirk. The look of utter terror on Tweek's face is perfect and Craig laughs.

"We are not doing that."

"Okay. I just wanted to see your reaction, anyway. So what are you going to say?"

"Umm, I could say that I want to break up with you cause you're completely boring and I'm tired of you. That sounds pretty shitty right? Oh and that I want to see other people or something."

Craig nods because that does sound shitty and for a second he wonders if Tweek really thinks he is boring.

"Well, that's it then. I'm going to write down our lines tonight at work. You'll be able to memorize them by tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah," replies Craig "just don't make it into an hour long thing."

Tweek rolls his eyes "five minutes tops. Is that okay with you, your majesty?" he teases.

Craig bumps his arm with his fist and Tweek lets out a small squeal, frowning at Craig. He retaliates by stepping on Craig's foot with his hunter green Dr. Martens, but it's so mild and smooth that Craig doesn't really mind. He takes one last long drag of his cigarette and then flicks the butt on the ground. "We should be heading back inside. The lunch break is gonna end soon."

~

Tweek doesn't even greet him when he enters the empty coffee shop, instead he just asks whether Craig has brought his math homework with him. Craig flips him off, but takes out his exercise book and places it on top of the counter, regardless. Tweek hands him a sheet of paper, filled in his serpentine handwriting and Craig assumes it's their upcoming lines. He skims through it for a moment and then folds it in two and puts it in his jeans' back pocket. Tweek really went out of his way to depict himself as an insensitive asshole.

His friend is copying his homework furiously and Craig rests his elbows against the counter-top, watching him. "You really should start doing your own shit," he states. Tweek lifts his eyes from his notebook for a moment, giving Craig a sideways glance. "I _am_ doing my own homework, you jerk. It's just all this algebra bullshit. All these equations and the fractions. I don't understand anything!"

Craig shrugs but doesn't say anything more because it had always been a lost cause to try and make Tweek grasp the beauty that hides behind all these numbers. But Tweek decides that he is not going to drop the subject so casually. "Besides, it's not that I'm going to college or anything."

At that, Craig's heart clenches and he really wishes he hadn't said anything in the first place cause their respective future plans is always a sore topic for him.

"You could, if you wanted to," he offers instead.

"Well, I don't," Tweek scoffs. "We have a perfectly good business going on and I'm not gonna leave everything just to get a degree that probably won't be of much use to me anyway."

"You could come with me to Denver," Craig insists. "We could share an apartment, live together. It would be great."

"God, Craig, just stop it!" Tweek exclaims, abruptly silencing his friend. He is emerging from behind the counter, as if their conversation doesn't allow him to stand still and he makes his way to the door, switching the 'open' sign to 'closed'. He lingers for a moment, observing the street lights illuminating their shop window. 

Craig is watching him and can't, for the life of him, figure out how he'll be able to leave him behind.

When Tweek turns around to stare at Craig again, he makes a few steps towards him but doesn't reach the counter. Instead, he stays in the middle of the coffee shop, his arms fall gracelessly at his sides. "Yes, we could live together, and yes it would have been great, but what about what _I_ want, Craig? This.." he gestures all around them, at the packs of fresh coffee, and the dirty espresso machines, and the rusty till "..This is my life. This pathetic, little shop has been around for almost forty years. I know my parents are treating me like a slave but at some point I'll be in charge of everything. I can't do that if I go away."

Craig just stares at him, not really coming up with anything more to say, cause they had the same argument many times before and each time it ends up with a stinging feeling at the bottom of his stomach. 

~

"So, are you ready?" They are sitting alone during lunch the next day, because their 'impromptu' break up must look spontaneous and they can't do that with a bunch of people watching them from the beginning.

Craig glares at Tweek for a long moment, trying to communicate silently to him how much he hates putting up these little shows. "Yeah, let's just get on with it."

Tweek stands up from his seat, trying to look intimidated and furious and Craig realizes that it's on. "How much more clearly should I tell you this Craig? I'm breaking up with you!" That gets them a few glances. By the time the whole thing will be over the entire cafeteria will be watching them, most of the kids would be begging them not to break up.

Craig tries to look sad and crushed at that but he feels he is failing miserably. He really is a terrible actor. He gets up and approaches Tweek, who instinctively steps back a little.

"But why? I thought we were happy," he offers with his same old apathetic voice and Tweek shots him a disapproving look.

"We are," he replies, a little over-dramatic in Craig's opinion. "But we won't be happy for much longer. You are going off to college in a couple of years, where you'll meet a ton of interesting, new people and you'll realize that I'm not as fascinating as you think I am. And I'll be left behind, lonely and miserable.

Okay. What?

That wasn't what they agreed on. Hell, these are not the lines Tweek handed him yesterday. Still, Tweek is looking at him pointedly, urging him silently to say something, anything and just have a reaction of some sort.

"That's not what's going to happen," he says and realizes it's the truth. Tweek's words struck so many chords and he finally has the chance to say how he truly feels. "I will never stop wanting you in my life. I'll meet new people, sure, probably make a few friends, but that will never have the same impact as our relationship."

"Dreading about what might happen, is not a valid reason for ending what we have now."

Tweek doesn't reply to any of this. He just gives him an indecipherable look and then turns his back at him, storming off, which was, in fact, part of the plan.

~

Late in the evening, as he is lying on his bed, staring at the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, he replays Tweek's words over and over in his head. He knows Tweek was acting but what if he really feels that way? That Craig is going to leave and forget all about him, not bothering visiting a town as godforsaken as South Park. And then he catches himself reaching for his cell phone, on his nightstand and calling Tweek, who picks up almost immediately.

"Hey, man," he says.

"Hey."

They remain silent for a long moment, Craig is just listening to Tweek's uneven breathing and the tiny noises that emanate from him from time to time.

"Why did you change the lines?" he asks eventually. He can hear Tweek sighing at the other side of the line.

"I don't know. It's just, after our conversation last night, they seemed appropriate, you know?"

"So, this is how you actually feel?" Craig asks.

"Well, you know me. I worry about everything. I admit that it _has_ crossed my mind a few times," Tweek pauses for a second before sneering "A lot of times. Pretty much every day," he snickers but Craig can hear the insecurities threatening to consume his friend's voice and thoughts.

"I meant what I said," he says after a second. "I wasn't acting."

"I know you did, Craig. And I'm so happy that you feel that way. But who knows what's actually going to happen?"

Craig definitely doesn't. But he won't let that stop him anymore. "We can make it happen, dude."

Tweek is probably thinking about that, contemplating the pros and the cons in his head and other weird shit Tweek does before replying to someone "Yeah, I guess," he says finally.

"Nice," Craig says.

"Well, I was watching that new Marvel show on Netflix, so I'll see you tomorrow, man."

"Yeah, see you tomorrow," Craig is ready to hang up when he suddenly remembers something "Hey, Tweek, wait!"

"Yeah?"

"Does this mean we are back together?"

He can hear his friend laughing softly at the other end of the line "Yeah, man. We are back together." And with that Tweek hangs up, leaving Craig with a matching grin on his face.

Before resting his phone back on the nightstand, he takes one last look at his background picture. Clyde stole his phone at some point at the beginning of the year and took a picture of them in Token's fancy living room. They are sitting side by side, on the big couch, talking animatedly about something, Craig guesses it was the latest X-Men movie but he might be wrong, and Tweek is smiling. Actually grinning, teeth bare and everything, its corners reaching his eyes, not coyly, not shyly, every ounce of fear vanished from his expression. And Craig loves that Tweek. He loves the regular Tweek too, with his nerves, and his paranoia, with his coffee addiction and his absurd demands. With his aversion to math and his dedication to the family business. Tweek, with his stupid blinding hair, and the dimple on his right cheek that is only visible when he is smiling. And with his stupid, baffling, undeserving devotion to him.

It might be fake but it’s still the most real thing Craig has ever had.


End file.
